Noah took the camera from her and slowly pushed her back onto the bed. He guided her onto her side, her back to him as he lifted the camera to his eye.
“You do realize you can’t see my breasts,” she teased, looking over her shoulder at him.
“I don’t want to take photos of your breasts with your camera.” He snapped several shots as he moved around her. “That’s for my phone. And my eyes only.”
He took several more shots before she leaned back against the pillows. “Get your phone. If you’re going to photograph my breasts, do it now before I shower.”
He slid off the bed and dug around in his suit jacket, then pulled out his phone. “Oh, shit. My phone has blown up in the last twelve hours.”
“Why?”
He stood and scanned the screen. “Gram.”
Libby sat up, her breath catching with worry. “What about Gram?”
“She tweeted a photo of us at the chapel.”
It took Libby a moment to put it together. “Megan and Blair saw it.”
“Yeah.” His voice was tight.
“Why do you sound so upset?”
He sighed and put the phone on the nightstand. “You need to call them.”
Anger simmered in her chest. “Why are they upset? Because they weren’t invited?”
He sat on the bed and picked up his phone again, opening his Twitter app. “You need to see the tweet, Lib.” He handed her the phone and she looked at the photo on his screen.
It showed the two of them in their wedding attire with Tito in his costume behind them—diaper, wings, and harp.
Oh shit.
“They’re pissed at me, and they’re worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Look at it, Libby.” He held the phone up in front of her. “They think we got drunk and I took advantage of you.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You’ve been like the poster boy for anti-marriage.”
“Well, maybe they think you only married me because of the curse.”
“Why would they be angry with you?”
He shook his head and took several steps toward the bathroom before turning around to look at her. “Because no matter what I do, I will always be the sleazy bastard.”
Libby stood. “Noah.”
Some dark emotion covered his face. “I’m going to take a shower.” He went into the bathroom and shut the door. The water turned on seconds later.
Her temper raging, Libby grabbed his phone and scanned his messages. Megan and Blair had both sent him texts accusing him of taking advantage of her. They clearly did not take her marriage seriously.
Undecided on who to call first, she settled on Blair, who answered on the first ring. “You have some explaining to do, McMillan.”
“He doesn’t owe you a damn thing.”
“Libby,” Blair said, sounding surprised. “Why are you calling from Noah’s phone?”
“Because I left mine at home. Remember?”
“Gram was supposed to bring it to you.”
Well, shit. It was probably in her purse, although it was undoubtedly dead. “Look, it doesn’t matter which phone I’m using. What matters is you’re harassing my husband.”
“Libby, listen. I think we can get it annulled.”
“Why would I want to get it annulled?”
“You’re obviously not thinking clearly. I saw the photo of your wedding. Did you get married in a circus? How drunk were you?”
“I wasn’t drunk at all, not by the time we got to the chapel anyway.”
“So you’re admitting there was alcohol involved? That’s good. We can use that as evidence.”
Libby groaned. “Blair, what do you want?”
“I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I was fine until Noah found the texts from you and Megan.”
“What did you expect us to do? You wouldn’t answer your phone.”
“Here’s an idea—how about you try congratulating me?”
Blair was silent for a few moments. “Libby, I know you’re confused right now. I know you believed in the curse, so I’m sure you jumped at the chance to make it come true. Especially with the bad influences around you.”
“You mean Noah.”
She remained silent.
“Okay,” Libby said, her voice tight. “So let me get this straight. You think I was so desperate to make the curse come true, I would have married anyone who came along.”
“You were going to marry Mitch.”
“Only because I expected my soul mate to show up.”
“Like that sounds any better? Are you listening to yourself? You didn’t even know who it was. So then you married Noah.”
“I love Noah.”
“You love Noah,” she repeated in a monotone. “Since when? You two are friends, like two rule-breaking kids who’ve found a co-conspirator in each other. You never once said you thought Noah was your soul mate. When did you figure this out? Last night when you were drinking? Everything’s so much clearer when you’re drunk.”
“I thought you were my friend, Blair.”
“Believe it or not, I am.”
“No, you just want to lord it over me.”
“What does that mean?”
“You and Megan love that I’m the irresponsible, head-in-the-clouds, screw-up friend. That way you both can feel superior to me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?’
“Libby.” She sounded irritated. “You have a pattern, and if you would just hop off the Libby whirlwind express for a moment and take a breath, you would see it too. You never handle a breakup well and you always make some stupid decisions you regret later. That is exactly what you’re doing now.”
Fear bubbled in her chest, stealing her breath. Blair was right about her previous breakup behavior. What if she was right about this too? But there was no way in hell she’d let Blair know she’d gotten to her.
“Libs”—Blair’s tone softened—“I love you and I don’t want to see you get your heart broken again. Noah is a user. He’ll take what he wants and move on. If he doesn’t cheat on you first.”
“How can you say that?”
“You know he never stays with one woman for more than a week. And yeah, I know he was in a month-long relationship with that woman in Seattle,” she said dismissively, “but that only proves my point. He’s in a relationship with some woman and then he just up and marries you? It won’t last.”
“I’ve had my own share of men, Blair. I’m not exactly the Virgin Mary.”
“True, but you were always looking for love, deep down. He’s just looking for his next lay.”
“So if Noah is just looking for his next lay, and we both know I’m an easy conquest, why did he marry me?”
“I didn’t say you were an easy conquest.”
“Why did he marry me, Blair?” she repeated with more force.
She paused. “I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to figure out his angle.”
“Well, figure it out without me.” She hung up and scowled at the phone in her hand, wishing she could throw it against the wall. Megan would want to hear from her too, but she couldn’t deal with her right now. Especially since the claws of Blair’s accusations were sinking deeper and deeper into her head.
What if Noah got tired of her? The feelings she had for him were so much deeper and more intense than anything she’d experienced before, but what if it wasn’t the same for him? There was no denying he was a good friend. Could he have married her, in part, to make her feel better? And worse, what if this was just another of Libby’s many desperate attempts to find someone to love her?
Was she really that pathetic?
But then she thought about everything she had shared with Noah, both before and after their wedding. She could trust Blair or she could trust Noah. Which one would it be?
The temptation to go to him swept her into the bathroom. He was leaning against the wall of the
shower, his forehead buried against his arm. His hair was wet and water dripped down his muscled back. He really did have the face and body of a god. No woman had ever held enough of a lure to keep him for very long. Why did she think she could?
He heard the door open and looked up, anguish on his face.
Who did she choose to trust?
Staring into his eyes, it was really no choice at all.
She stepped into the shower and pulled his mouth to hers, pressing her body against his chest.
His arms were around her back, pulling her close, his mouth hungry and desperate to claim hers. His hands were everywhere and so were hers—seeking, demanding, begging, claiming. He grabbed her ass and lifted her against the shower wall, entering her as she clung to him. There were no words; their bodies said everything that needed to be said. She came quickly, Noah following right behind her. She buried her face against his chest, still shocked that he was really here with her. That he was hers.
She would believe what she held in her hands, the proof in front of her eyes.
Her friends could go to hell.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Noah,” Libby murmured against his chest, then looked up into his eyes. “I’m so sorry about my friends.”
Her words sent a new jolt of fear through him. He stiffened and started to pull out of her and put her down, but she locked her legs around his back and tightened her hold on his neck.
“Don’t shut me out. Please.”
The fear in her voice caught him off guard. He rested his forehead against hers and her body relaxed.
“I love you. I don’t care what they think.”
He shook his head. “They’re your friends. Of course you care what they think.”
“I’ll admit that Blair infuriated me and hurt me with her judgmental attitude . . .” Her voice wavered. “But she doesn’t run my life.”
“In their eyes, I will never be good enough for you. They will always be waiting for me to fuck up so they can tell you I told you so.”
She flashed him a tiny smile. “That will be a lot harder to do with them in Kansas City and me in Seattle.”
“I can’t ask you to give up twenty-five years of friendship for me.”
She grabbed his face and looked deep into his eyes. “Don’t you see? You’re not asking me to choose. You’re giving me the freedom to make my own choice. Blair sees me as an incompetent toddler incapable of making a responsible choice.” She took a breath. “I don’t think I can ever become the responsible person I want to be because it still won’t fit in with their vision of a responsible adult. They’re always judging me against their standards.”
“Libby. I can’t be the person who comes between you and your friends.”
“Don’t you hear what I’m saying? You aren’t coming between them and me. They are coming between us.” She kissed him—a gentle brush of her lips against his—her touch full of so much love it took his breath away. “I love you, Noah McMillan.”
“And I love you, Elizabeth Gabriella St. Clair McMillan.” He forced a grin. “You never told me your name is Elizabeth.”
Something flashed in her eyes. Doubt? Did it bother her that he had hadn’t known her real name until their wedding? “You never asked. I hate it. It’s so stuffy.”
He kissed the corner of her mouth. “You’re much more of a Libby to me. My Lib.”
She closed her eyes. “Yes, your Lib.”
His hold on her tightened. He was surprised by the possessiveness rushing through him. He’d thought he would feel more secure about their relationship once they were married, but he was more worried than ever. Now he was aware of what he risked losing.
Her eyes opened and he stared into their rich brown depths. Would he really get to stare into them every day for the rest of his life? The hope and contentment that thought gave him calmed his soul.
“Let’s finish washing up, then get breakfast,” she said, grinning. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite.” Her hold loosened and she was sliding down his body, slow and sultry, when a new horror hit him.
“We just had unprotected sex.”
She shook her head dismissively. “It’s okay. I already told you I have an IUD.”
“No, it’s not. I wanted to get checked out first. God . . . Libby . . . I’m sorry. I should have been more responsible.” Then it hit him. Maybe he would never be responsible enough to be a good husband. He wasn’t sure he could bear it if she joined the long list of people he’d failed.
“Noah. Stop.” She said it with more authority than he was used to hearing from her. “You’re my husband.” The smile she gave him was so sweet and soft his throat tightened. “We can have sex without condoms. But if it makes you feel better, we’ll use them until you know for sure, okay?”
Her words soothed the sting of his pain.
“I love you. Please don’t feel any guilt about making love to me. It doesn’t belong there.”
“Okay, but we have to use condoms until I know.”
She grinned. “I won’t let your manhood near me until it’s sheathed. But to be safe, perhaps I should get a chastity belt.”
He kissed her again, pressing her against the shower wall as a tidal wave of love and gratitude overcame him. She always knew just what to say to pull him from his dark places.
“Give me your shampoo,” she said. “I’ll wash your hair.”
They were more subdued than usual as they washed each other. The overwhelming fear he’d still lose her was almost enough to drown him. Here in this moment, it was easy for her to want to stay with him. But what about when they got back to real life? When her friends were with her in person? They’d always see him as a fuckup.
He had to prove them wrong and show them he was worthy of her.
He had to close the Abrahams deal.
Something deep inside told him to tell her what was going on. If anyone would understand his decision to impulsively quit his job, it was Libby. But she was so proud of him and the progress he’d made, and he felt like everything between them was precarious enough. He didn’t want to risk it. If he could set up a meeting with Abrahams, he’d tell her that he was working on a business deal. But if he couldn’t get the meeting, he’d tell her the truth and let everything fall where it would.
He watched her get ready, longing to stay in the cocoon of their room, where they were safe from the rest of the world. When she started blow-drying her hair, he told her he was going to get ice and took the ice bucket and his phone into the hall.
Tiffany answered on the second ring. “I thought you were blowing me off, Noah.”
“No, of course not,” he said, feeling slimy as he ran a hand through his hair. “I just got tied up.” He took a breath. “So, about Scott . . . Can you set something up?”
“Yeah, but I’m more interested in setting something up between you and me.”
Tell her. Just tell her you’re married. But he couldn’t. He needed this deal so he could start his life with Libby, and he wasn’t sure Tiffany would set it up if she didn’t think she had a shot with him. When Libby moved to Seattle, they’d have nothing. She deserved more from him. “Um . . . I . . .”
“What’s gotten into you, Noah? You don’t sound like yourself.”
“Oh . . . just fighting a cold.”
“I can bring you some chicken soup . . . and then feed it to you.”
Before Libby, he would have been ready to go just thinking about it. But now, it made him feel dirty. “That’s okay, it’s just a small one. So about that meeting . . .”
“You are one persistent boy, aren’t you? That’s something I loved about you,” she said with so much innuendo a deaf man could hear it.
He ignored her last statement. “My business really needs this.”
“And I really need you.” Her voice was low and seductive.
Shit. Shit. What was he going to do? Tell her. TELL HER. “I’m not in town for very long.”
“We only need a few hour
s, lover boy.”
“I thought you were seeing Scott.”
She giggled. “Come on. Like that stopped you before.”
“I’m seeing someone.”
Another giggle. “Like that’s stopped me before. Besides, everyone knows you don’t really see women. Lucky for you, I’m not looking for more than a few hours at the most. You know what they say—what happens in Vegas . . .” Her voice trailed off with seductive promise.
He swallowed, knowing he was at a crossroads. If he led her on any more, he’d be cheating on Libby and he refused to do that. He’d support her some other way; hell, he’d get a job as a janitor if need be. “Tiffany, I’m married.”
“You’re what?” She couldn’t have sounded more shocked if he’d told her he was an alien from Mars.
He leaned his back against the wall by the ice machine and heaved out a breath. “I’m married and I love my wife very much. I don’t want to deceive you or lead you on any more than I already have. I need this account, but I won’t sleep with you to get it. If you don’t want to set up a meeting for me with Scott, I understand, but I really hope you can help me out.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she mumbled. “You’re married. Has hell frozen over?”
He released a nervous chuckle. “It very well might have.”
“So you love her, huh?”
“You have no idea. Please.”
“Yeah, sure . . . why not? If you can fall in love, get married and be so adamant about remaining faithful, it gives the rest of us single girls hope.” She still sounded dazed. “When are you free?”
“My day is flexible. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”
“I’ll text you when I know something. Tell your wife congrats.”
“Thanks, but if we run into each other later, can you not mention the meeting to her? I want to surprise her with the closed deal when it’s done.”
“Yeah, sure.”
He was already on his way back to the room when he realized he hadn’t filled the bucket. He turned around and completed that task, then went back to the room. When he walked in, Libby was leaning over her suitcase, stark naked.
The Gambler Page 23